Fool Me Once: Legal Affairs, #2

By Angela Forister

He broke her heart and made her an object of scorn and derision in the national media…and now, to save her son, she might have to let him do it all over again.

Jade Lin dreamed of curing cancer. While she pursued a cure, America’s tabloid sweetheart, Kyle Galbraith, pursued her. When she finally gave him her heart, he publicly humiliated her by getting engaged to the woman his fans had been rooting for all along. 

Unfairly shamed as the sore loser in the alleged love triangle, Jade was vilified from coast to coast. She lost everything—her good name, her reputation, and worst of all, her cancer research. She had no choice but to disappear and remake herself into someone no one would ever recognize again. 

Ten years later, she’s attorney Verity James, and she fiercely protects her secrets, including the son Kyle knows nothing about. She wants to make partner at the largest law firm in Nevada—a powerful position from which she can better protect her son should the paparazzi ever find them. All she has to do is impress the firm’s newest client and get his company on retainer.

That client is Kyle, now Vice President of GEM, his family’s pharmaceutical company. He’s in Las Vegas to deal with a lawsuit filed against GEM’s miracle cancer-curing drug. He’s surprised to find Jade, the one woman he always regretted losing.

Their highly reactive chemistry still flashes hot, but the past isn’t easily forgiven. When they uncover alarming evidence of the drug’s horrific side-effect—one that could fundamentally change the world—everything they thought they knew about their past is called into question. When their son is threatened, can they sort through all the lies and deceit before it’s too late? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angela Forister
• Release date: Jul 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536536263

Book preview

Chapter 1

DAMN THE MAN!

It had been ten years.

Ten years!

By now, Kyle Galbraith should’ve been a minor footnote in her life, no more than a youthful indiscretion she’d forgotten long ago. Instead, his memory had stuck around like an ill-conceived and very much regretted tattoo—under her skin and just as hard to remove.

Verity would give anything to put the unfaithful snake firmly in the past where he belonged, but reminders of him were everywhere. They popped up at the oddest moments, impossible to avoid. She thought of them as Malignant Moments because, like a cancerous tumor, they invaded her life, killed her peace of mind, and she had absolutely no defense.

Today’s Malignant Moment had come out-of-the-blue in the grocery store checkout line. She’d been thinking about what to make for dinner when—wham! She’d been sucker punched right in the solar plexus. There was Kyle, plastered larger than life across every tabloid in the newsstand.

Plastered is right. In the photo, Kyle slouched against a stunningly beautiful A-list starlet, his arm thrown haphazardly around her shoulders for support. His hair was tousled, his tie askew, and his drink tilted at a precarious angle, the amber liquid on the verge of spilling. Despite this, he was still the most compelling individual she’d ever encountered.

Damn the man!

She took a deep cleansing breath, hoisted the grocery bags from the backseat of her car, and headed into the kitchen. The room’s soft light and cozy colors welcomed her home and soothed the edges Kyle had ruffled so easily. Through the bay windows, the sun had already disappeared, but an orange glow warmed the horizon. In front of those windows, her mother sat at the kitchen table laughing with her two best friends, Gwen and Leslie. The three fifty-something women greeted her as she set the grocery bags on the counter.

Her mother, Harmony James, hopped up to help. Hey, sweetie, did you get my message about needing more margarita mix?

Yes, but it was already on the list. I swear you guys go through margaritas faster than we do milk.

Hey, they’re hard earned. Teaching may have its rewards, but sometimes a good margarita is all that stands between us and the insane asylum.

While Gwen and Leslie laughed and agreed wholeheartedly, Harmony leaned in to hug her and whisper, "Beware, they’re talking about him."

Verity stiffened and pulled back. Her mother shrugged. Verity briefly closed her eyes, trying to prepare for yet another Malignant Moment. Wasn’t one a day enough? She still hadn’t recovered from the last one.

As if on cue, Gwen waved a folded bit of newspaper with the same picture Verity had seen at the grocery store. Your mom clings to the belief that John Lennon is the best-looking man in history. Gwen rolled her eyes as if that was the most ridiculous thing ever. Then she jabbed the photo with a finger. "But the truth is, this is the hottest man to ever walk the Earth. Obviously, you agree, right?"

While Leslie nodded and slapped hands with Gwen in a hell, yeah! high five, Verity mentally braced herself to play along. I don’t know. Who are the tabloids tormenting this week?

For a moment, Gwen looked like she’d swallowed a bug. "Not tormenting! Showcasing. Get your head out of the sand, girl. It’s Kyle Galbraith. He’s practically American royalty."

Of course she recognized the scum-sucking louse. She shrugged and struggled to appear nonchalant. Oh, him. She waved a hand as if the man was too trivial for even a passing thought. He’s nothing but a drunken playboy. Who’d he spill his drink on this week? She peered at the picture as if seeing it for the first time. She’s pretty, but you’d think the American public would be sick and tired of following his sad, shallow life. And he’s not even famous for anything other than being a member of an old and wealthy family. She paused for a moment. And his dead wife.

Gwen rolled her eyes again. Come on, girl! No one cares about all that when he’s such spectacular eye candy. And what’s wrong with being rich? I’d say it’s a bonus.

Her mother slipped an arm around her waist in solidarity. "I agree with Verity. Can you imagine actually being his flavor of the week? So shallow. She gave a mock shudder. I don’t think any of them have lasted more than a week."

Gwen shrugged. I don’t care how short the ride is. With a man like that, it’d be worth it.

Verity couldn’t blame Gwen for her reaction. Kyle was an incredibly handsome man, at least on the surface. His tumble of curly golden hair had—once upon a time—tempted her beyond reason. And the way his moss-green eyes intensified when he focused his entire being solely and completely on her…it was like getting snagged in the gravity of a brilliant star. He’d sucked her in, spun her around, and utterly changed the course of her existence. Then, he’d ejected her into the cold and desolate vacuum of space where she’d been drifting ever since.

She shook herself. Clearly she’d been reading too much Carl Sagan with Tru. I agree, Mom. I’m sure the Kyle Galbraith experience is highly overrated.

Harmony squeezed her gently. She’d been there for the aftermath and knew exactly how devastating that experience had been.

Gwen glanced at her watch. Oh! I’m going to be late for my date.

Another one? Aren’t you tired of all the losers that dating site’s thrown your way? Leslie asked.

Gwen pulled her sweater off the back of the chair. "They aren’t all losers. Besides, it’s fun to flirt and have a conversation with an actual adult. It’s so different from the teenagers we deal with every day who only think they know it all."

Leslie rose also. I’ll walk out with you. I’ve got papers to grade.

After they left, Harmony began pulling groceries from the bags. You handled that well.

Thanks. Verity took off her suit jacket, collapsed onto a barstool, and rubbed her temples. For the millionth time, she tried to put Kyle Galbraith firmly in the distant past where he belonged.

Her mother glanced over her shoulder as she slid a can into the cupboard. Her long graying braid swung gently across her back, the tip brushing the top of her jeans. Tomorrow’s the big day. I can’t believe I’ve got my fingers crossed so my daughter will make partner at the largest law firm in the state. Her brow furrowed. When you were born, if someone told me you’d someday work for the Man, I would’ve said they were smoking something. How the times have changed.

Verity smiled wanly. Her mother’s hippie origins ran deep. This is my dream, Mom. Making partner is a major step for me. She picked up the pendant that hung in the hollow of her throat and absently ran it back and forth on its chain.

Yes, but I can’t help wondering if it’s the best thing for you.

Verity paused, the pendant dangling from her fingers in mid-arc. Of course it’s the right thing. It’s what I’ve been killing myself to achieve for the past ten years.

Harmony sighed, leaned a hip against the counter, and folded her arms. She considered Verity a moment before saying, That’s exactly my point. You’ve been killing yourself for too long. Do you realize what you’ve sacrificed in the last ten years? You’ve changed so much I sometimes don’t recognize you.

Verity couldn’t have been more stunned if her mother had slapped her. Mom, what are you saying?

Harmony nodded at the necklace still dangling from her fingers—a white jade disc with a dragon carved into it and a hole through the center. "That’s a bi symbol. Your father gave it to you because it has ancient meaning and he wanted to honor his Chinese heritage by passing it on to you. Only people of the highest moral quality, those who lived honestly and with integrity, could wear it. You were young when he died, but he hoped you’d value and honor those same principles. Instead, you’ve spent the past ten years hiding everything about yourself—your personality, your heart, even your appearance. You may have thought it was necessary because of your circumstance, but it’s become a mask you hide behind, an excuse to avoid living your life fully."

Where had this come from? Verity dropped the necklace and stood so abruptly the chair nearly fell over behind her. "You of all people know what I went through and what will happen if I’m ever recognized. The stakes are huge, and I can’t believe you’d criticize me for taking measures that aren’t just necessary, but essential, to our protection."

Harmony stepped forward and placed her hands on Verity’s shoulders. She smiled ruefully, making all the laugh lines around her eyes scrunch gently in concern. Daughter, I know your reasons better than anybody, but the lies are killing you. Would it be so bad if everyone knew? Why not tell the truth and live freely, without constantly looking over your shoulder?

Verity jerked back. Who would believe me after all this time? And regardless of whether they did or didn’t, it’d be a nightmare. Have you forgotten what it was like? She spun around, a hand on her forehead, remembering the terror and humiliation. Reporters followed me everywhere. They even camped outside the hospital. She spun back and threw her hand out in exasperation. And then, for weeks after, all those talking heads on TV endlessly dissected my life and passed judgment on my character regardless of any actual facts.

Her breath hitched. She pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to put the overwhelming emotions back in the box where she could control them. "I lost everything. I couldn’t even use my own name. Her conviction solidified and she firmly held her mother’s gaze. I’ll never be that vulnerable again. My actions, how I live my life, is what protects us from reliving that nightmare."

Harmony stood her ground. But at what cost? You used to be lit up on the inside, so excited by your cancer research and all its possibilities. That work fed your soul. Now, there’s no joy in what you do. Worse, it’s taken over your life. When was the last time you did something with a friend? Heck— She threw a hand in the air. "When was the last time you even had a friend? Harmony pointed at her. It’s not healthy. You need to face the past, deal with it, and put it behind you before you actually become the aloof, reclusive woman you pretend to be."

Her mother had clearly lost her mind. Verity struggled for calm. Mom, if it was just me, maybe I could. But I have to consider what’s best for Tru. If we’re ever exposed, he’d be the focus of all the attention. He’d bear most of the consequences. A fire welled within her, making her eyes and throat burn. Her gaze locked with her mother’s. "I’ll do anything—do you hear me?—anything to protect him. She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat didn’t budge. And what about you? The school would probably fire you."

Harmony held up a hand, temper sparking in her eyes. Oh, no you don’t. I won’t be your excuse. This is Las Vegas, where almost anything goes. The high school isn’t going to fire its best chemistry teacher because of something I didn’t do—and had no control over—ten years ago. As for Tru, it’s time he knew the truth. That boy needs his father.

She stared at her mother, utterly astounded. She couldn’t believe where this conversation had led. Whether she should tell Tru and his father about each other was a forbidden topic since shortly after Tru’s birth. Bringing it up now, after all these years, felt like a betrayal, one that blindsided her and left her speechless.

Before she could do anything more than stare at her mother incredulously, Tru stumbled into the kitchen. He was a typical nine-year-old boy, skinny and gangly. These days it seemed he was all arms and legs. As usual, he had his nose buried in a book—George’s Secret Key to the Universe by Stephen and Lucy Hawking—making him oblivious to their conversation and the tension in the air.

Without looking up from his book, he slid onto a stool at the counter and pushed his glasses up with a clumsy knuckle. Verity affectionately rumpled his perpetually messy hair.

He’d inherited some of her East Asian features, including his dark sable hair color, warm skin tone, and distinctive eyelid shape, but mostly he looked like his father. His messy curls, moss-green eyes, and strong jaw were hallmarks on the Galbraith family tree. But the real similarity was in the details—how he walked, some of his mannerisms, even the adorable dimple that appeared at the top of his forehead whenever he concentrated on a problem. She loved her son with every flavor of quark she possessed, but those similarities haunted her and were another reason why it was impossible to forget the man who’d destroyed her life.

She straightened. As Tru’s mother, the decision was hers to make. Regardless of Harmony’s opinion, under no circumstances would she expose her sweet, brilliant child to the lying, cheating rat who fathered him. She glanced at her mother, who watched Tru fondly. As far as Verity was concerned, their discussion was over. Hey, kiddo, how was school today?

He carefully marked his page and closed the book before giving her his full attention. He blinked owlishly behind his glasses. I’m going to enter the science fair. Then he smiled hugely and wiggled in his seat. He turned toward his grandmother. Can I have a peanut butter sandwich, please?

Harmony grabbed the peanut butter from the cupboard and placed a slice of bread on a plate. She put both in front of him, along with a knife. They’d given up long ago on making a sandwich to his satisfaction. He picked up the knife and meticulously applied peanut butter to the bread. When he finished, every millimeter was covered with a perfectly uniform layer. He folded the bread in half and took a bite out of the middle.

Is Michael going to be your partner for the science fair? Harmony asked.

He pinched his lips together and shrugged.

That’s a good idea since you two work so well together. Why don’t you invite him to spend a night this weekend so you can talk about it? She waited for him to jump at the chance to have his best friend over, but he remained focused on his sandwich. She mentally shrugged and changed gears. What kind of project do you have in mind for the science fair?

He drew his brows together, making the dimple on his forehead stand out. Maybe a Tesla coil, but that’s not very challenging, or original. I’d rather do something important that will be useful to people.

Well, let me know if you want some help.

He shrugged again and bent over his plate, taking another huge bite of his sandwich.

She caught her mother’s eye and shook her head. She warned with a look that the subject of Tru’s father was closed. Permanently. She firmly intended to never think about the man again.

---

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Verity was in her office early. Her secretary sat ramrod straight on the edge of a chair, rapidly scribbling down the tasks Verity dictated to her.

Finally, file the answer to the casino complaint this morning. William Barrett is opposing counsel, and he never misses a beat. Make sure everything about this case is calendared carefully. Let’s stay especially focused on this one.

Yes, Ms. James, I’ll see to it.

Good, that’ll be all.

After her secretary left, she stood and ran a hand over her midriff to smooth the wrinkles from her suit and the nerves from her belly. Time to meet with Peter Weller, the firm’s managing partner, about her partnership.

As she walked down the long hall to Peter’s corner office, she passed secretaries busily typing away and a legal assistant rushing by on a mission. Through open office doors, her fellow attorneys were on the phone, meeting with clients, or conferring with other attorneys or support staff.

Not one person acknowledged her. No one made eye contact or asked how she was doing. No one called her into their office to discuss a case or chat about weekend plans. No one said, Hello, or Good morning, and the legal assistant who had nearly collided with her as he rushed by didn’t offer an apology or even an Excuse me. In fact, no one acknowledged her passage in any way. Instead, their gazes skimmed right over her, as if she didn’t exist.

It wasn’t because they were unfriendly or cruel. They behaved that way because she’d insisted on it. To keep a professional barrier between her and everyone else, she’d always deflected personal inquiries, barely tolerated the usual pleasantries exchanged between coworkers, and had actively discouraged any interest in her on their part. It hadn’t been long before they got the message and quit trying to draw her out. Now they simply ignored her and it had become a habit firmly ingrained by years of practice.

It was a good thing. At least, that’s what she told herself. It fed her image, the persona she maintained everywhere but at home. If she kept everyone at a distance, no one could figure out her secret. Today, for the first time, she realized how invisible she’d become. It may have been the behavior she’d insisted on from her co-workers, but today it bothered her. Actually, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She’d always hated it, but today she didn’t push those feelings away.

She’d never wanted to be invisible. She used to be vivacious, easygoing, and friendly, with lots of friends and acquaintances. Of course, she’d discovered the hard way that those people hadn’t really been her friends. Not one of them offered support or tried to defend her during the media nightmare. Some even grabbed their fifteen minutes of fame by telling outrageous lies about her to the reporters looking for any juicy tidbit. It had all ballooned so far out of control.

She shook off the thoughts as she approached Peter’s office. Focus on the partnership. It was the key to everything. She placed a hand over her stomach and blew out a long, silent breath. Peter sat behind his enormous desk, flipping through a sheaf of papers. When she knocked on the doorframe, he glanced up.

Come in, I’m nearly finished.

She sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk, crossed her ankles demurely beneath her, and folded her hands in her lap. She pulled her professional demeanor tightly around her and hoped her nerves didn’t show. So much hung on the next few minutes.

Peter signed his name with a flourish and threw the document into his outbox. He settled back in his chair, intertwined his fingertips, and tapped them against his lips as he considered her. For the first time in a very long time, she wanted to squirm.

Ms. James, you’ve been with the firm for seven years. It’s time we discussed your future.

Yes, sir.

You were quite the topic of conversation at the last partnership meeting. He paused and her stomach dropped. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? Everyone agrees your work is exemplary. They’re impressed with how well you handled William Barrett in your last trial. Over the years, he’s given several of the partners a run for their money.

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. He’s a good attorney. While the jury found our client liable, the damages awarded were a fraction of what Barrett had demanded to settle before trial. The outcome was a fair one and fully supported by the facts.

That’s not what the client thought. He expected to win.

She shifted in her chair. The client had hoped to avoid any liability, but it hadn’t been a realistic expectation. I prepared him for the possibility in advance. He knew the risks of going to trial. The bottom line is he breached the contract. The damages awarded were fair. I’m sorry he’s disappointed.

Judge Thompson thought the outcome was fair as well.

Judge Thompson? Her heart gave a hard knock. She caught herself reaching for her necklace and jerked her hand back to her lap. She carefully intertwined her fingers before meeting Peter’s eye. You spoke to the trial judge?

I ran into him last week, and he told me how impressive you were during the trial. Most attorneys stretch and manipulate the facts to get the best result for their clients. He peered at her closely. You’re more of a straight shooter. You don’t play games. As a result, you gained the judge’s respect. Whether or not the client’s happy, that’s a feather in your cap.

She dipped her head in acknowledgment and relief. He was hard to read, but she hoped it was a good sign for her partnership.

You’re thorough, focused, and effective. All excellent qualities for a partner. Peter leaned over the hands he clasped on top of his desk. However, more than one partner has expressed concern.

Wait… What? Her head snapped back. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Peter waved her down.

The partners are concerned with your demeanor, he said.

My demeanor? She sat back, stunned. She was always the picture of professionalism. What could possibly be wrong with her demeanor?

Personally, I consider that icy facade of yours very effective at intimidating opposing counsel and projecting confidence to the judge, but others are concerned about how you interact with clients and juries. You can come across as unlikable. Sort of…a prickly bitch. He smiled faintly, apparently trying to soften the blow. If you were more personable, problems like those you had with the last client might not happen. He paused. Did you know the staff refers to you as the Dragon Lady?

Yes, she did know that. It was based on the dragon necklace she always wore, but it really stemmed from her standoffish manner and her demand for professionalism and excellence from everyone she worked with. At first, the name had hurt her formerly friendly soul, but she’d sucked it up and discovered it proved another useful tool to keep everyone at a distance.

Peter continued, You have quite the reputation. You’re exacting and don’t tolerate fools or half-assed efforts. You ruthlessly pursue the truth, and you insist on nothing less from your co-workers. There are some who’ve asked me not to assign them to work with you because they can’t take the pressure.

Well…damn. That couldn’t be good. I take my job seriously, and I expect a lot from the people I work with because ultimate responsibility for the clients and their cases falls on me.

Peter waved his hand again. You won’t get an argument from me. I’m just telling you the way it is. Your reputation has spread outside the office. In fact, when I spoke to Judge Thompson, he referred to you as the Dragon Lady. Some of the partners are concerned that kind of image is wrong for the firm and doesn’t fit with the expectations of our clients.

She was stunned, both by his words and his bluntness. All these years she’d worked so hard to perfect her professionalism, and now it stood in the way of her making partner.

Peter pulled her from her thoughts. This is not a final decision. Give me something to work with. Make an effort to warm things up. Be friendlier, more compassionate. You’re human, show it. Experiment on your co-workers, but dazzle the clients. He sat back then continued before she could gather her scattered thoughts, "It won’t kill you to chat with people occasionally or take part in the firm’s social activities. The annual picnic is